


Timestamps

by concernedlily



Series: while you're making other plans [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Ignis/OMC, M/M, Magic, Nightmares, Slice of Life, timestamps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concernedlily/pseuds/concernedlily
Summary: Timestamps following up Ignis and Noctis between the main story and the start of the game.





	1. Ignis's first time with his university shagpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis's first time with Geraind, the boy Noct sees him with in chapter two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from the splendiferous [ataraxetta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ataraxetta)

“That's really good,” Geraind said and Ignis gave the sauce a final stir before he took it off the hob. Out of habit, he started to pour it in its own small puddle on the side of the plate, without touching any of the other food; and then he remembered he wasn't catering to Noctis’s picky eating this evening, and poured it lavishly over the fish and vegetables. 

“It'll do,” he allowed. It was a first attempt at a new recipe, something he'd thought up on his own when he'd shopped for ingredients at the university's small, dedicated market that morning; he didn't expect perfection with a new dish. It was rather unnerving to be sharing it with someone - Noctis rarely noticed what he was being given to eat, apart from never liking it unless it was a burger - but Geraind had been pleasant and helpful in the two weeks since Ignis had moved into the halls of residence, allowing Ignis the benefit of his years of undergraduate experience, and when he'd shown an interest in Ignis’s meals Ignis had realised that the thing to do was to offer to share his cooking.

Geraind was lavish with praise as they ate, most of which Ignis tuned out; Geraind’s cooking was competent but no more, so his opinion was hardly valuable. Ignis finished eating and made a few notes in his recipe book, to remind himself to add a little more seasoning next time, and to try keeping the heat lower. 

“That was delicious, thank you,” Geraind said. 

At the end of the meal seemed like a convenient place to accept a compliment without having to discuss the topic further. Ignis said, “Thank you.”

Geraind leaned forward and put his hand on Ignis’s, and said, warmly, “No, really. Thank you. You're very generous with your, er… time.”

Ignis rearranged the evening in his mind. This hadn't happened to him before, but he'd read plenty of books and while at restaurants and cafes had observed many people he'd assumed were on first dates. 

He hadn't usually been close enough to hear what came after the touch and the doe-eyed look, though. Geraind had the slightly anxious look of someone who would be unnerved by Ignis deviating from a pattern, and that made Ignis anxious in turn. He much preferred someone like Gladio, who just said whatever was on his mind at any given moment, or Noctis, who was always his most real self with Ignis and never bothered to hide even his worst, surliest moods. 

“Thank you,” he said again, making his voice low. He tried a smile. 

Geraind smiled back. This was quite a lot simpler than Ignis had imagined, although romance was never something he'd devoted much research to: why bother? He already had Noctis; it was Noctis who was his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night, and that was how it ought to be. 

Geraind was looking at his mouth. Ignis waited for whatever happened next. 

Nothing much happened at all. Geraind continued looking at Ignis’s mouth, fixedly, and finally Ignis ventured, “Do you fancy a shag?”

That had been straightforward. Either he would say yes, and they would proceed, or he'd say no, and Ignis would go and finish writing the literature review for his research proposal. Both scenarios seemed equally likely, and were equally appealing; Ignis congratulated himself. 

It _was_ homework time. He wondered if Noctis was studying, and then he worried about what Noctis had eaten for dinner, and then he thought about Noctis alone in his apartment, ready for bed and messing with his hair as he played his videogames or typed up a book report. 

“Yeah,” Geraind said, happily. “Gods, you're forward, I thought you'd be really… anyway, yeah! Definitely. Shall we?”

Slightly to Ignis’s surprise, his body seemed to know what to do in his first encounter with another man. He was thickening in his jeans, even starting to ache, and with a murmur of agreement he stood up, piled their dishes conscientiously into the sink for later, and led Geraind to the small room Ignis had here at university. It wasn't much; wasn't anything at all, to the grandeur of the citadel or the high-up peace of Noctis’s apartment or even the homely neatness of his grandmother’s house where he'd grown up: but it was in the corner and had wide picture windows on both external walls, looking out over this part of the city, and that made him feel a little less lonely for Noctis and home. 

Ignis had kissed girls before, and it turned out to be eminently applicable to kissing boys. It was always an interesting technical exercise: he didn't know Geraind but he learned him quickly, wringing moans out of him in short order with a sense of scientific satisfaction. 

Geraind’s erection against his hip felt more surprising than exciting, although Ignis supposed that was the point of the whole thing. Thinking about pleasing Geraind left him with a sensation of gentle, dutiful befuddlement, and thinking of being pleasured himself was barely any better. He shut his eyes as they kissed and let his mind drift, let himself fall into the pure physical feeling of it. His mind wandered to Noctis, as it usually did when he allowed it to roam, and abruptly Ignis cried out into the kiss, fire racing up his spine, Geraind’s hand clumsily groping his cock through his jeans. 

“Take your trousers off,” Ignis suggested and Geraind panted and obeyed, flinging them off with abandon and onto the floor, then, bashfully, his t-shirt. Ignis got up to skim out of his own jeans, folded them neatly onto the end of the bed, and leaned over to pick up Geraind’s and do the same with them. 

Geraind was watching him in with the kind of expression Ignis knew very well, that meant another kid was finding him weird, but as Ignis took off his underwear and t-shirt and stood bare in front of him the familiar look was replaced by a new greed. He pushed Geraind back down onto the bed and lay next to him and started kissing again. 

Masturbating someone else wasn't that much different from touching himself, once Ignis had figured out the optimum angle. He watched the effect it had on Geraind with close attention, marking what worked, what Geraind seemed to prefer, a tighter grip than Ignis himself did, with less attention on his balls and light pulling on the thatch of wiry hair where his cock sprang out. 

It was essentially manual labour, and quite dull. Geraind wasn't especially interesting and the faces he pulled as he climaxed over Ignis’s fist were embarrassing. 

“Oh gods,” Geraind whispered after, with a silly smile, and Ignis allowed himself to be pulled down and kissed messily again rather than have to think of a response. “Do you… hey, do you think I could… I could suck you, if you want?”

“Yes, all right,” Ignis said, a bit annoyed. If he'd realised that was an option in an initial encounter, he could have tried that too. 

Having his cock sucked was nice. Ignis threw his arm over his eyes and laid back and enjoyed it, letting his thoughts wander and dissolve where they would. 

Geraind lay next to him afterwards and stroked Ignis’s tummy. It made Ignis rather uncomfortable, but he assumed this was a normal part of things and put up with it.

His phone beeped and Ignis got out of bed to find it in his jacket pocket. It was Gladio, firming up arrangements to start teaching Noctis to drive, and Ignis sat on the bed and forgot the other boy entirely as he resumed the argument they'd been having about whether Gladio’s vehicle was suitable for Noctis to learn on (it clearly wasn't, and Ignis had no idea why Gladio hadn't grasped that).

“I guess I'll go back to my room,” Geraind said tentatively. 

“All right,” Ignis said. He glanced up at Geraind, and then back at his phone. Geraind had a scholar’s body, as he began to dress; none of the strength or litheness of someone like Noctis or even Ignis himself, who trained often with the genuine belief that they might in time need to defend themselves and their people with nothing but the life in their body. 

Geraind was scrambling into his t-shirt, and it was with his face hidden by the cloth that he said, “Maybe we might… do it again?”

In Ignis’s estimation his eagerness was more born of convenience than any deep feeling - the palace was full of people with their eye on the main chance and Ignis had learned to spot them young, for Noctis’s sake - but he still considered it. The whole thing hadn't been terrible, but Ignis suspected he had been rather terrible at it. It wasn't a feeling he enjoyed. 

“Why not?” he said.


	2. Ignis POV of Noct returning after his first magic lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis POV of the scene in chapter 2 where Noct returns from his difficult first magic lesson with his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was also from [ataraxetta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ataraxetta) <3

Ignis had a paper to produce. All of his notes on Duscaen worship of the Archaen were prepared, his argument was written up neatly ready for full explication and discussion, and he had eaten a healthy supper with only a small coffee afterwards, so it wouldn't interrupt his rest. 

He hadn't written a word in nearly three hours. He looked again at the clock, and worried. 

The entryphone rang. Testa reported, “The Prince is on his way up, Sir.”

“Thank you,” Ignis said. He didn't need to ask if Noctis seemed all right; the note of alarm in the soldier’s voice told all. He flipped on the small security camera on the screen next to the receiver, and turned it to the penthouse elevator. Noctis was resting his head against the control panel, and even on the grainy camera he looked exhausted, lines of hurt furrowing the usual delicacy of his features. 

He went back to the kitchen and turned the coffee machine back on. The door opened and he hurried to meet Noctis. 

“Hi,” Noctis said. 

Ignis tried to hide his shock. The King had warned him that the learning process would be hard on Noctis; not merely the discipline and mental strength that Noctis would need in learning to channel and control the power of the crystal and the Lucii line, but that the physical strain and even pain of the effort would be significant. His words had been strong enough that Ignis had forgotten himself sufficiently to ask to be allowed to be present and support Noctis directly: the King had refused, albeit kindly, and although every cell of him had protested being kept away from his prince when Noctis needed him, Ignis had had no choice but to accept the King’s order. 

But he could be here now. “Good evening,” he said, and went to Noctis. Up close Noctis was pale, shaking, squinting in the light and visibly in agony, holding himself like he'd been beaten and was afraid anything he did would cause it to happen again. He nestled close up against Ignis when Ignis put his hands on his shoulders, making a soft sound of hurt and stress; he barely even seemed conscious, as if sleepwalking. 

“Come on,” Ignis said. Even speaking quietly Noctis hunched his shoulders at the sound of his voice and Ignis restricted himself to low, soothing shushing sounds as he brought Noctis through to his bedroom with a protective arm around his shoulders, Noctis huddling into his chest for instinctive comfort. 

Noctis seemed to wake up a little as Ignis turned down the bed and got him sitting on it. He was still wearing his school uniform, in the scruff he always managed to make of it over the course of the day. Ignis undressed him gently, trying to jar his weary body as little as possible, coaxing Noctis to draw his arms out of the sleeves of his blazer. He knelt to undo Noctis’s shoes and Noctis grabbed for him as if he were frightened Ignis was going. Ignis found he was breathing fast; mimicking Noctis’s anxious racing breaths, and he modulated his pattern consciously, giving Noctis something to follow.

His hands were warm and clutching on Ignis’s shoulders. His suffering was unpleasant for Ignis to experience, but it was fading, under Ignis’s careful hands; Ignis’s entire being felt focused on ensuring it was so, on looking after Noctis and seeing him back to a state of health and happiness. He turned his head and nudged at Noctis’s hand, reassuringly, and Noctis heaved a breath and fell back onto the bed. 

He was still wearing his shirt and trousers, but a night in those wouldn't hurt. He covered Noctis with the duvet, tucking it carefully round Noctis as Noctis sighed and went limp, although the evidence of pain lingered on his face. He was pressing his head into the softness of the pillow as if the hurt might flow out of him and down into it, and Ignis stroked his hair and darted out to the kitchen. 

He threw an espresso down his throat hastily and put together a quick plate for Noctis, hoping he wouldn't have to force him to eat. It was only crackers, a glass of apple juice, and a banana, but Noctis’s always precarious appetite was even more unpredictable when he was unwell and Ignis was determined that he had to eat before being able to take the high strength painkillers that he kept for the very rare occasions when Noctis’s old injuries plagued him. A quick detour into the bathroom for a cold compress and he went back in to Noctis. 

He'd turned the light off in the bedroom. From the doorway Noctis looked a little better in the dimmer glow of the bedside lamp, but as Ignis came close he could still see the messy smear of pain over just the bit of Noctis’s face that wasn't smothered in bedclothes. Ignis ached for him, the way he'd gone to ground like a snail pulling back into its shell. 

He sat on the side of the bed as lightly as he could. Noctis made a small snuffling sound that turned into a lip-bitten whine of pain as he tried to move, and Ignis closed his eyes for a long moment before he pulled the covers away, apologetically, helped Noctis to prop himself up enough to drink some of the juice, which he did thirstily, and pick at a cracker. 

“It's Thursday,” Noctis said. “You're not here on Thursdays anymore.”

He didn't sound accusing, as he had when Ignis had first broken the news that he wouldn't be around as much anymore. He hadn't expected, at the time, that it would really bother Noctis at all; their relationship was much better than it had been a year or two ago, in the doldrums of Noctis’s awkward teenage phase, but he still hadn't felt like he was anything Noctis would miss. But now, as he talked about it, Noctis sounded… sad. As if he did indeed miss Ignis, the way Ignis had found he missed Noctis, straightforwardly and constantly, his presence so long taken for granted. 

“I wanted to be here today,” he managed to get out, holding back the desperate apology for not being there earlier, too, when Noctis had really needed him. He put the painkillers on Noctis’s tongue and helped support his head as he swallowed them with the last of the juice, touching his cheek and feeling the softness of Noctis’s skin under his fingers as he laid back down. Ignis picked up the cloth and placed it gently over Noctis’s eyes and forehead, leaving his palm over Noctis’s head for a moment more. If he'd had magic of his own, like the Oracle - if he could have taken all of Noctis’s pain into himself in that moment, he would have. 

“Do you have to go?” Noctis said, sounding soft and vulnerable. 

“No, Noctis,” Ignis said, moved further back onto the bed and felt Noctis move into him, rested his hand very lightly on Noctis’s hip over the thick cover. “I'll stay until you fall asleep.”

It did take Noctis a good while to fall into anything more than a fitful doze. Ignis could all but follow the progress of the medicine being absorbed, blunting his pain receptors. Ignis filled the time, unproductively, with imagining what Noctis might have had to do to leave him in such a state, and mentally replanning his study schedule in order to be able to be here with Noctis the following Thursdays, if Noctis wished it. 

He crept out of the room when he was sure Noctis was asleep. His laptop was still open on the table, his notes and textbooks stacked beside it. He stared at it all for a minute, his head foggy with anxiety and helplessness, and then he turned into the kitchen, put fresh Ebony beans in the machine, and got out flour and salt and sugar. 

Baking was good. Baking was soothing, predictable activity. He mixed the ingredients and they behaved now as they had last time he'd made the sweet pastries Noctis favoured, as they would the next. By the time he'd slipped them into the fridge to chill for the rest of the night and sat down to write out for Noct how to bake them in the morning, he was calm, the pivotal argument and evidence for his paper starting to come together in his mind again. 

Noct cried out, sharp and distressed.

It couldn’t have taken Ignis more than a few seconds to get into his bedroom, but it felt an age. Noctis was fighting with his bedsheets, whimpering with terror, and when Ignis threw himself onto the bed and grabbed Noctis up into his arms Noctis burrowed in instantly.

“I’m sorry,” he was saying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know,” Ignis said, and started to rock him, his arms wrapped securely around Noctis and Noctis yet still trying to get closer. Ignis stroked his back and kissed his forehead and murmured to him, bringing Noctis gently and surely back into the real world with him.

He felt much as he had when they’d been children, and Noctis had started having these nightmares that had never truly left him. Noctis was bigger, and stronger, nearly grown; but his arms still wound round Ignis’s neck as trustingly, and he still quieted in Ignis’s embrace, trailing from his fright into soft lethargic weeping into Ignis’s throat.

Ignis was never sure whether Noctis remembered in the morning, either the dreams or the comfort. It didn’t matter: it was enough that Ignis could be here with him now.

It was very rare for Noctis to have another session of night terrors in one night, but Ignis slept on the floor in his room anyway. He didn’t manage much deep sleep, but generally speaking he made sure to get sufficient rest; one broken night wouldn’t trouble him overmuch. 

He left more juice by the bed, and checked on the pastries in the fridge, and set a reminder on his phone to call Noctis’s teacher when school opened to say he might not be in. Then he made sure the covers were warmly over Noctis, keeping away the early morning chill, and let himself out of the apartment in time for the rising sun.


	3. Regis finds out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by [fieryknowledge](fieryknowledge.tumblr.com)!

The really annoying thing was, they weren't even _doing_ anything. Dad didn't catch them fucking, he didn't even find them kissing. 

All it was, was they were hanging round the palace, sitting together waiting for a meeting, and Noct was playing a game on his phone, and Ignis was reading a book. And Ignis had reached out and put his hand on the back of Noct’s neck, and was stroking through the hair at the nape of his neck, and it was so much nothing, just a simple little touch, that neither of them had even noticed they were doing it. Just knew that they were close and together and everything was nice. 

And Dad had come out of the Council chamber and _looked_ at them, and Noct knew he knew. 

“Hi,” Noct said. Ignis pulled away like he'd been set on fire and Noct followed, half instinct and half making the point that… that Ignis wasn't his dirty little secret. He wasn't ashamed of Ignis, or what they had together, and he might not have told his dad about them but he wasn't going to outright lie, no way. He leaned up into Ignis, not in a showy way, just staying very near, and after a moment of hesitation that Noct could practically feel, his magic agitating and pulling on the thread between them, Ignis put his hand on the small of Noct’s back, carefully, and turned into him the tiniest amount. 

“Good afternoon, Noct, Ignis,” Dad said evenly. “Noctis, could I have a word with you in private, please?”

“Sure,” Noct said. He really wanted to kiss Ignis, but he didn’t dare; he pressed back into Ignis’s hand on him instead, and looked back at him as he trailed Dad into the Council room. Ignis was staring back at him, blotchy pink and tense, and they didn’t stop until the door swung shut behind them and Noct had to pay attention to his dad instead.

“How’s things?” he said.

“Noctis,” Dad said. He sounded concerned, maybe, more than mad, so that was a pretty good start, Noct thought, hopefully. 

“Yes, your Majesty?” he said, in a last ditch thought that maybe playing dutiful son would get him out of this, show what a great influence Ignis was or whatever, and Dad just looked unhappy. Noct hated that. The King was worn and used up enough now that any bad emotion on his face just made him look about a thousand years old, like a candle that had been left lit too long and was guttering and collapsing. He turned away from Noct, abruptly, rested his hands on the table and bowed his head over them. He was favouring his bad leg. He only did that when he was really screwed, even in front of Noct, and Noct stepped forward and said, “Hey, come on.”

“How long has this been going on?” Dad said.

“A couple of years,” Noct said. He tried to make it sound more careless than it was. It wasn’t a couple of years: it was twenty-one months, three weeks, and four days, but Noct liked thinking of it as two years. He liked saying to Ignis, _we’ve been together two years_ , he liked looking in the mirror and telling himself, he liked correcting Gladio and Prompto when they said stuff vaguely, you’ve been together a while now huh, and Noct could smile and slip his hand into Ignis’s and say, _actually_...

He didn’t really know how to play that with his dad. On the one hand, he wanted Dad to know this wasn’t some fleeting fucking-about thing; they were solid. They lived together, they argued about who was going to take the trash out, they had a regular schedule of making sure to fuck twice a day on weekends because they didn’t know how busy they were going to be during the week.

On the other, it was just possible Dad would see it as two years of lies, and that wasn’t going to go well for anyone.

“A couple of _years_ ,” Dad said.

Noct tried not to cringe. His magic coiled in his belly and if Noct concentrated hard he could almost feel Ignis waiting outside, how he was dying to know what was going on, fretting more for Noct than himself, even though what was Dad going to do to Noct? He only had one son: there was no spare in the wings if Noct broke with his birthright. He said, “Yeah. A couple of years, yeah. We’re really… I dunno. It’s good. It works.”

“It’s good?” Dad said. He was looking thoughtful, and he was watching Noct like the answer was really, really important.

“Yeah,” Noct said. He searched for something else to say, but there wasn’t anything; he’d never been good at putting this shit into words. Ignis was everything, and being with him meant everything to Noct. He didn’t know how to talk about that. “It’s really good.”

“You were such a solitary child,” Dad said, and Noct caught himself just in time before he rolled his eyes, habit almost taking over from what was smart. “I wanted… it was important to me that you have someone, Noct.”

“Well, I do,” Noct said. “And it’s… yeah. Good.”

“Good,” Dad echoed, and sighed. Then he strode to the door, all signs of weakness on his leg gone, and threw it open to summon Ignis inside.

Ignis came in in that overly elegant straight-backed way that somehow did more to make him look like a kicked dog than a slouch would’ve. Noct wanted to go to him; a glance from Dad tried to pin him in place but that was - that wasn’t right. Ignis was always talking to him about kingship, and choosing the right actions, this ancestor and their crappy decisions and this other ancestor and their even worse ones, and Noct always listened, or at least half-listened, and it felt like one of those kinds of moments where he might not think much of it now but he’d lie awake all night and he’d wish he’d done… this.

It wasn’t much, no matter how big it felt. He went towards Ignis, and when he turned back to his dad, it was from a united front.

“And how would _you _like to explain this situation?” Dad said, frostily.__

__Noct looked at him, but Ignis wasn’t looking back; he was staring at Dad, and he looked resolute to the point of being grim. Even his hair seemed to be drooping a little._ _

__“Noctis and I are involved,” Ignis said. He sounded calm, adult, and then he kind of wrecked it by going on unnecessarily, “In a relationship. We’re in a relationship.”_ _

__“And how long has this relationship been going on?” Dad said._ _

__“Nearly two years,” Ignis said quietly. “Sire… whatever you may be thinking of Noctis’s responsibilities in this situation, please allow me to -”_ _

__“Enough,” Dad said and Ignis shut up fast as a cuff to the head. “You are the Prince’s closest advisor. That is why I brought you here. That is your purpose. Not to get yourself into his bed.”_ _

__“Dad,” Noct said, sharply, watching the colour drain out of Ignis’s face. Worse, watching the way Ignis closed his eyes and gave a small nod, like he _agreed_._ _

__“I know,” Ignis said. “I don’t know what your Majesty wishes me to say. I’ve only ever wanted to - to do my duty.”_ _

__“And if I told you your duty is to leave him?” Dad said. Noct made a sound of miserable denial and Dad silenced him with a gesture._ _

__Ignis was standing impossibly still next to him. “Answer me,” Dad said, implacable._ _

__“You are my King,” Ignis said, clearly. “If you command me to leave Noct’s service, I will.”_ _

__Noct didn't really remember the sensation of being torn nearly in two by a daemon, but it probably hadn't been that far away from this. Dad was watching Ignis, narrow-eyed, and the sight of him was getting blurry._ _

__He felt Ignis’s hand fumbling for his. Shaking, sweating, and when Ignis squeezed tight he clung back, desperate._ _

__“I will leave Noct’s service,” Ignis said again, and took a deep breath. “But I won't leave his side.”_ _

__Noct closed his eyes. His magic was spinning a frantic web around their joined hands, around Ignis’s wrist, as if that could help, as if it wouldn’t let them be parted._ _

__“All right,” Dad said. He flipped his cloak over his shoulder, sat down, picked up his pen, and went back to his Council papers._ _

__“What the fuck?” Noct said, dizzy with… something. He didn't even know. All that felt real, right, was Ignis’s fingers still twined with his, so hard Noct’s hand ached._ _

__“Language, Noct,” Dad said. “I said, it’s all right. You boys can go home. Both of you come for dinner in my rooms on Sunday.”_ _

__“Your Majesty -” Ignis said and Noct blurted, “Great, see you then!” and dragged him out of the room before Dad could change his mind._ _

__They fell into one another’s arms as soon as they were back in the hall. Noct was hanging onto Ignis tighter and closer than he ever had, the fear not even starting to fade yet, and Ignis was holding him just as fiercely, one arm wrapped around Noct’s waist and the other cradling his head into Ignis’s throat, plastered together along their whole bodies like they were both still thinking someone might come along and try to take them away from one another._ _

__“Ignis,” Noct said eventually. “I thought he was… I thought you were gonna…”_ _

__“ _Noct_ ,” Ignis whispered, looking crushed, his eyes filmy-wet and big, and Noct starting stumbling over his hasty explanation, that no he hadn’t really _thought_ , he’d just been _afraid _, while Ignis said, “I would _never_ ,” and Noct made an urgent noise and jammed their mouths together into what was maybe their most ungainly, frenzied, necessary kiss since their very first one together.___ _

____They kissed long enough right there in the middle of the palace that by the time they left it wasn’t just Dad who’d figured everything out, but that was okay. Ignis was Noct’s; it didn’t matter now who knew._ _ _ _


	4. Ignis POV of their first kiss(es).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis POV of their first kiss(es).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by [Thelostwriter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelostwriter/pseuds/Thelostwriter).

Ignis carried on sitting at the table for quite some time after he heard the door slam behind Noctis. At some point he realised he was touching his mouth, and placed his hands in his lap, carefully.

Noctis didn’t return, even though Ignis waited and waited. Eventually he pulled out his phone and clicked into the shared locations, to find that Noctis hadn’t gone far at all: he was only across the street, in the small cafe there. Ignis could imagine him, curled tight and alone in a chair, waiting himself. 

The idea that Noct had kissed him - had simply leaned in and kissed him, his mouth trembling on Ignis’s and his hand warm on Ignis’s shoulder, Ignis’s whole body reacting to Noct’s need - already seemed alien and strange, but that seemed proof it had in fact happened. Clearly Noct didn’t wish to come back and see Ignis again and Ignis got up and started to make preparations to leave.

***

Geraind made casual overtures that night. “No, thank you,” Ignis said. “I have a lot of studying to do.”

“Okay,” Geraind said cheerfully. “Maybe tomorrow?”

Maybe. Or, maybe, never. “I’ll let you know,” Ignis said, and shut the door in his face.

***

Noct didn’t contact Ignis at all that week. That wasn’t unusual - Noct could sometimes be really so incredibly inattentive to things that weren’t shoved directly under his nose that it was like trying to provide guidance to a lump of coal - but under current circumstances it was rather unsettling. Ignis picked up his phone thirty times a day meaning to open communications back up himself, but he could never think of anything to say.

Noct was wonderful, of course. He was brave, and clever, and over the last year or so what had been flashes of awkward sweetness within a general teenage moodiness had turned the other way round, until Noct was fun to be with more than not. Ignis saw a little more every day how he was slowly readying himself to his duty, and it was his pride and pleasure to stand by Noct as that happened, to be at his service. 

Until then, Ignis was older, and more experienced, and the King himself had placed him in a position of trust with his son. And it seemed clear that Noct was regretful; that he felt he had acted impulsively and wouldn’t wish to acknowledge it. He was under a great deal of strain right now, from several different sources, and it was Ignis’s place to assist him. The idea of trying to push for answers or explanations or anything else and losing Noct’s trust, or perhaps even being sent away, was horrendous. Ignis had no right to any expectations, or even hopes.

***

Ignis had an eidetic memory. It was almost a prerequisite of his position: he had so much to learn, one reason why he had hurried through his schooling and had hurried through his degree and was now hurrying through graduate school. Once Noct ascended the throne, he would rely on Ignis to give the best advice he could, to have an absolute grasp on every tiny feature and incident of his kingdom and his reign. 

It had led to sleepless nights often, knowledge spinning round his mind, and it did again now, his body restless as he fought to pull it back to discipline and calm.

It meant he could recall in perfect detail the exact dry softness of Noct’s lips as he’d kissed Ignis, the precise blue of his eyes blurrily up close. 

It meant that his imagination could fill in how Noct might have reacted if Ignis had caught his chin, if he had opened Noct’s mouth with his, if he had held Noct close against his body and shown him how. If only he could have responded to Noct as a man, not as a mentor.

It would fade eventually. Probably.

***

Noct didn’t tell him not to come at the weekend as usual, so Ignis spent some time planning. He got items for a new recipe he’d been meaning to try, and read the newspapers and watched Noct’s favourite TV show, which he used to write out several possible topics of light conversation, in case there was awkwardness. He pored over schedules for the movie theatres and the TV, and found a documentary about the legend of the Six in the Early Lucian Empire which Noct would be studying next semester, thinking of distractions to fill any silence.

He was absolutely determined that everything should be normal, easy. Noct would know that Ignis hadn’t given any of it so much as a thought.

***

Ignis felt he was doing really a very good job of reassuring Noct that he had nothing to worry about, and then at one stray absurdity from Noct, who was red-faced and tense, the whole damned thing went to blazes.

“You would not kiss Prompto,” Ignis said, hiding his irritation. It was so clearly an absurd notion.

Noct said doubtfully, “Are you jealous? That’s - you don’t want me to kiss Prompto?”

“No,” Ignis said. He took a deep breath and then the rest seemed to tumble out of him. If Noct really wanted to kiss people… he deserved Ignis’s honesty. “No, Noct, I don’t, and that’s not fair to you.” He felt hesitant and silly, trying to explain himself, trying to apologise. “I’m supposed to take care of you, not… I’m not supposed to feel like that.”

Noct took a step closer, and Ignis did too, drawn to him; to the sudden bright happiness adorning his pretty face. Being close to Noct almost felt warm, the crackling energy around him that Ignis could feel but couldn’t see, that had started to swirl just over Noct’s skin since he’d started working with his father and the crystal. Noct said, “But you do. You do feel like that?”

“Noct,” Ignis said, meaning to be firm, but Noct was already pressing in.

He felt good. So right that Ignis reached for him automatically, resting his hands on the slim jut of Noct’s hips, and there was no look on his face to memorise this time: Ignis’s eyes were already slipping closed as Noct rose up to catch Ignis’s mouth uncertainly with his.

Noct most certainly hadn’t kissed anyone before. If Ignis hadn’t suspected as much he would have known it from the gentle, untutored eagerness of Noct’s lips on his, the shock and bliss of the way he sighed when Ignis put his arms around him and embraced him tightly.

It felt new to Ignis as well. Just as surprising, even transformative, as Noct seemed to be finding it, from his enchanting little noises of passion and excitement into Ignis’s mouth. Ignis had kissed a number of times before: and he had assumed, and found, that one kiss and one partner was much like another; he had researched the matter and concluded to his satisfaction that sex was a scientific matter, biological and predictable.

He’d been a bloody big fool. He felt, now, as he had a few weeks ago, helping Noct work through managing the power that allowed the Lucii kings to summon weapons and other objects. True magic, no mere tricks any scholar could use, and Ignis had had to excuse himself at one point to go into the bathroom and pass a shaking hand over his eyes, his soul blazing with childish wonder.

Kissing Noct was the same. As he felt Noct under his hands, tasted him, loved him, it was impossible to think that Ignis might ever be able to let him go.


	5. Ignis and Gladio's conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio's POV of the conversation he and Ignis have about Ignis and Noct getting together. Prompted by fieryknowledge on tumblr!

“So,” Gladio said, watching Ignis over his cards. “You and Noct, huh?”

Ignis didn’t look at him, but he went really slow and stiff. He traded in two cards and said, “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard,” Gladio said. “Don’t front, yeah? Noct already admitted it.”

“I see,” Ignis said coldly. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d resort to subterfuge to get Noctis alone and underslept and underfed, he looks terrible by the way, and then importune him on personal matters.”

“Fuck you,” Gladio said amiably, ignoring what Ignis had said and focusing on the defensiveness of how many damn words he’d used to say it. He faced a card and traded another one with Ignis’s discards. “We had fun, and before you start, it’s just one blister and he might not think so but it ain’t gonna kill him.”

Gladio was losing, maybe two more turns away from it. He’d played with Ignis before and this was usually where he got quietly smug, but now Ignis seemed to have totally forgotten they were even playing. He was just looking down at his hand blankly, taking breaths that were trying to be deep and coming out ragged. Gladio looked down at his own cards, listening out for the small sounds of Noct doing his homework in his room, reminding himself why he was in here pushing this shit with these two idiots, sympathy making his teeth itch.

“You know what you’re doing at all?” he said, gently.

Ignis still didn’t look up, but his smile was crooked. “Not really.”

“He’s really into you,” Gladio said, but the way Ignis did look at him then told him that Ignis knew that, excruciatingly; the way Ignis looked in the direction of Noct’s room, puzzled and besotted, told him Ignis was the same. Worse, maybe.

“He’s still young,” Ignis said, evenly, but he was clutching the cards so tight Gladio could see the edges digging little lines into his fingers. 

Gladio shrugged. “Not that young.” Noct was a weird little thing that way. In some things he was so fucking sheltered, used to getting his way, and yet he’d faced the blood and guts of the real world in fits and starts: Gladio never forgot, when he was training Noct up, that between Tenebrae and the injury that had led him there, Noct had seen more of Niflheim and the death the empire dealt out than Gladio himself had yet.

“I assume this is where the light threats of what happens to me if I hurt him come in,” Ignis said, clearly striving for lightness and missing by miles.

“Nah,” Gladio said. “You’d already rather die than hurt him. You think I don’t know that?”

“I know it’s...” Ignis said, helplessly, and Gladio felt fleeting wonder of what it was like, to like someone so much as to be willing to be completely fucking stupid because of it. “I know it isn’t… advisable. But I can’t stop it.”

“Yeah you can,” Gladio said. “He wouldn’t be happy, but he’d take it.”

“Yes,” Ignis said. “Yes, I can. You’re quite right. I phrased that cravenly. I don’t wish to. And so as long as he wishes to continue also, I will.”

“Okay,” Gladio said. Something in him settled, instincts catching on to danger passed. It was weird, thinking of Iggy and Noct being together, but as Ignis looked back again towards Noct’s room, Gladio could see it, like a little fleeting vision of how they’d be together, Iggy loosening up a little maybe, Noct content and focused. “Just… be smart, okay? Don’t fuck this up.”

“I hope not to,” Ignis said softly.

Gladio nodded briskly and chucked his cards onto the table. “Okay then. We’re done with this game, Iggy. New deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking timestamp/add-in prompts [](http://concernedlily.tumblr.com>on%20tumblr</a>.)


End file.
